The Truth About Faking

I open the front door and step inside. But when I look up, a scream flies out of my mouth. Mr. Men’s Health is standing in the middle of our kitchen wearing nothing but a towel!
    “Umm…” Ricky kind of laughs, then he says loudly, “Hey, Harley!”
    Mom comes breezing into the room reading the label on a small pot of cream. “Here, see if this’ll…” She freezes when she sees me. I haven’t moved from my spot inside the door. My eyes are huge and my mouth is still open.
    “You’re home,” she’s smiling, but her voice is too high. “How was school?”
    Then she glances at half-naked Ricky and does a little laugh.
    “Why is he naked?” I whisper-shriek.
    “No, honey, see,” Mom’s hand goes to her forehead and she rubs. I watch her long dark ponytail swing behind her. “Ricky had this mole on his glute he needed me to look at it, and it did look suspicious. So I offered to check the rest of his back. Just a quick visual screening—”
    “You’re not a dermatologist!” My voice is a high-pitched squeal, and my horrified eyes go back to Ricky on full display except for that little white towel. The light from our kitchen window highlights every line on his sculpted body.
    “Well, no, but I know a suspicious mole when I see one,” Mom says. “Skin cancer is very serious, Harley, and those tanning beds accelerate the growth—”
    Ricky interrupts in an amused tone. “I’m not naked .”
    I see his hand loosen on the towel, and I shriek again. “I don’t want to see!”
    Just then the door behind me opens. “Knock, knock!” a female voice sings out.
    All three of us jump around to see a middle-aged woman in tight black pants and a low-cut top walking in carrying a slim plastic bottle. It’s Trent’s mom. I recognize her at once, even though I’ve only seen her at church.
    “I got your message, and I figured I’d just come on by and… Oh, my!” Ms. Jackson looks up and stops. Her mouth drops open at the sight of Ricky in the kitchen. I literally can not breathe. Mom steps forward and takes her arm.
    “Sandra! I’m so glad you came by,” Mom says, trying to pull her into the living room. Ms. Jackson doesn’t budge.
    “You are?” she sounds surprised. Her eyes are glued to Ricky’s bod.
    “Ricky was just changing,” Mom continues as if it’s the most natural thing in the world for him to be standing around our house half naked. Like we live in the Playgirl mansion or something. “He’ll be taking over your appointments for me… for now.”
    “He will?” Ms. Jackson looks like she might faint, and then a gleam enters her eyes. I grab my backpack and head to my room as Ricky slips into Mom’s office and closes the door.
    I don’t even want to know what Trent’s mom is thinking right now. Or who she’s planning to tell the second she gets home.
     
    After about an hour, when it’s finally quiet again out front, I slip into the kitchen. I’m starving, and I’m hoping they’re all gone. Mom’s nowhere to be seen, but as usual, there’s Ricky. At least now he’s fully clothed and packing his gym bag to leave. I have no desire to speak to him. I can’t believe Mom fell for such a lame stunt. Skin cancer on his glute. How obvious.
    He looks up when I walk in the room. “I saw when you got home from school,” he says with a smile. “Who was that in the monster mobile?”
    I bite my lip, determined to ignore him, but he just keeps on talking.
    “He drives a Gremlin?” Ricky shakes his head. “Throw that one back.”
    “He’s not so bad.”
    “Was that Trent what’s his face? Somehow I expected him to drive something… a little newer.”
    “No, that was Jason James. He asked me to the luau.” I reach up and start pulling the French braid out of my hair. It’s giving me a headache, and my neck is still stiff.
    “Look at that.” He walks over and starts combing the knots out of my hair again with his fingers. “Corn silk.”
    “Stop,” I say, pulling away and going around the bar.
    He goes back to packing, and I watch him place a few of Mom’s all-natural bath products in his bag along with that little pot she was carrying when I walked in. “So what happened to Trent?” he says. “I thought all this was to land him.”
    “How’d you know about that?” I pull a bag of seaweed chips out of the cabinet and scan the label. I don’t know why Mom can’t just buy Doritos.
    “Eavesdropping,” Ricky glances up with a smile.
    “Mom would not